


The Pride That Comes After

by summersoprano



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-02 13:31:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5249981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summersoprano/pseuds/summersoprano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Selim Bradley is just a fourteen year old boy, trying to navigate his way through his teen years and achieve his dream of becoming a State Alchemist. But even through the confusions of high school and bullies and girls, nothing leaves him more confused than the strange, shadowy nightmares that haunt his sleep, or when he overhears his alchemy teacher refer to him as a 'monster'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue:

The sky was clear and the sun shone warmly on the lawn of the former first-lady’s estate. It was one of the first comfortable and cloudless days the people of Central had seen since the early fall, and just in time, too. The eighth annual Promised Day Commemoration was upon them again, and April third became a time of remembrance, memorial, and celebration for the citizens of Amestris. Galas, picnics, and festivals were held throughout the land, all decorated with the Amestrian green, white and yellow. 

Roy Mustang tugged uncomfortably at his collar, his suit too thick for the unexpected warmth of the afternoon. He wasn’t sure how he had done it, but he had managed to sneak away from the crowd of party-attendees in the hedges surrounding the courtyard. His presence there was a big topic of party chatter, and each and every guest wanted the chance to leave saying they had met the new fuhrer. He was honored, of course, and engaged in polite conversation with everyone who approached him, but for the most part he was tired of reliving that hellish day over and over while still having to maintain a civil and delightful demeanor. He needed a break, a moment with himself, to swallow down the feeling of severity that was swelling up inside of him. But the well-intended badgering and the painful recollections weren’t the only thing at the party that made his nerves uneasy…

“Done basking in the glory of the Commemoration, huh?”

Roy turned his head and saw a familiar man in his mid-twenties weaving through an arrangement of hedges, his golden hair loosely braided behind his head. 

Roy smiled and looked forward again, a cocky gleam dancing across his eyes. “Well, this is a sight. The famous Edward Elric not eating up every bit of attention the public has to throw at him.” Ed stood next to the Fuhrer, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slouched. “Didn’t feel like hogging the spotlight?”

“Not today.” His voice was light, desperately trying not to sink into the darkness that surrounded the holiday.

Roy put on a smirk that rivaled Edward’s and looked him in the eye. It was uncanny to think that this full-grown man was the very same hot-headed teenager that had been responsible for more than a few of the wrinkles beginning to show themselves on Roy’s face. Who would’ve thought that the two of them would be hiding behind the bushes, hanging up their titles, and escaping their pasts together. “The Fullmetal and Flame Alchemists…” Roy snickered. “Nine years ago we took on immortal soldiers, homunculi, and even a damn god…and now we can’t even face a crowd at a picnic.”

“We had a little more help back then.” Ed replied.

They both smiled half-heartedly in an attempt to lighten the shadows that crept behind their nerves. For a moment they didn’t speak, but just stood there, greatful to be around someone who remembered the promised day for what it was and not for the excuse it gave them to throw a party. 

“There you ar— oh, hello Edward.” Both men turned to see the small yet comforting smile of lieutenant and first lady Riza Mustang. “I was wondering where you had wandered off to, Roy.” Ed still hadn’t gotten used to hearing these two call each other by their first names. He had been at the their wedding and everything and yet it was still weird. “And I believe Alphonse is looking for you, Ed.”

“Oh. Yeah, thanks—”

“Mrs. Mustang! Did you find them?” Riza tried not to wince at the voice behind her, but even she couldn’t suppress the feeling of immediate danger. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, Roy stiffened, and Ed felt the hairs on his neck rise in alarm. Riza quickly forced her face back into a kind smile and turned to face the child. 

“I did.” She laughed, no one but Roy being able to sense her hidden edginess. The small boy excitedly ran to her side behind the bushes before his eyes widened in adoration at the two men standing before him.

“Wow!” He said with a wide and ecstatic smile. “The Flame Alchemist and the Fullmetal Alchemist! My mom told me you were coming but I couldn’t believe it! You’re here! You’re really really here!”

Roy’s eyes lingered on the distinct, circular scar on his forehead—his mark—before plastering on a smile and kneeling down to be leveled with the young boy. “Of course! It is a very special day, after all!”

The young boy beamed, almost visibly shaking with excitement. “My mom told me I’m old enough to start taking alchemy lessons soon! Maybe one day I’ll be a famous alchemist just like you two!”

The idea echoed dangerously through Roy’s mind, and he hoped to god that it wasn’t showing in his face. He laughed. “If you work hard, you just might!”

“Oh, Selim!” Mrs. Bradley’s voice rang over the courtyard. “Selim!”

“Sounds like you better get back to your mom.” Roy said kindly as he stood back up to his full height. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Selim obeyed, disappointed that he couldn’t stay and talk longer to his two greatest heroes. “Thank you for coming!” He remembered his manners. 

“We’ll see ya around, kid.” Ed finally managed to say without his voice dripping with venom. 

Selim beamed back at them before turning to run towards his mother. 

“Oh, and Selim?” Roy said. 

The boy turned back to look at him, his eyes wide and expecting. 

“Happy Birthday.”

Selim’s face broke into the single most overjoyed smile Roy had ever seen. “Thanks!” He laughed, and then took off towards his mother. 

“There you are.” The voice of his mother greeted him from a distance. “We’re going to open your presents now!”

Selim happily followed her, bursting with enthusiasm, his jubilant laugh singing over all the guests’ noisy chatter.

Roy, Riza, and Edward stood in silence for a moment or so, their nerves high on end and their internal alarms screaming wildly. 

“Is it just me?” Ed broke the silence. “Or does anyone else get the urge to attack that kid every time they see him?”

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Riza’s steady voice agreed. “He’s such a nice boy.”

“Selim Bradley has always been a nice boy.” Roy said, watching the child excitedly receive the first gift his mother handed to him, muttering a thanks before tearing into the delicate, white wrapping paper. “It’s Pride that I’m worried about.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I'd like to tell you a little bit about how this fic came about if you care to know (if not, feel free to scroll past and start reading!) so here goes! I always felt extremely uncomfortable about Selim Bradley being left alive at the end of Brotherhood and I'm sure I'm not the only one on that boat. There were just so many possibilities for things to go wrong or even go right, but the mystery behind it made me very uneasy. I happened to rewatch the last episode while I was reading this amazing fic called A Boy Named Ed by BelloftheSea and (please check it out if you haven't already!) and I wanted to put Selim in a similar situation. I also found a poem by Henry Lawson called 'The Pride That Comes After' which I thought was an excellent fit for Selim's story that I had stirring around inside my head. I think he deserves his own fic (but yes, all of our favs from FMA will play a major role as well!) and the fandom deserves a little exploration when it comes to post-canon Selim. So without any further ado, here is 'The Pride That Comes After'! Please enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer applies to entire work: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.  
> Crossposted on ff.net

" _It knows it all, it knows it all,_

_The world of groans and laughter,"_

 

"It really is such a shame." Mrs. Bradley smiled after a sip of tea. "I know you and Roy have made your decision, but really, the two of you would have the most beautiful children!"

Riza politely smiled in return. She remembered when Roy asked her to follow him in his ascension to power; what she envisioned at the end of that path. More of the same, she supposed. Snapping into attention, aiming guns, and keeping her at times overly-ambitious superior in check. Always professional, always in uniform, always his lieutenant. And she was. But she was more than that. Her duties required her to be more than a soldier, but to also be a lady. The First Lady of Amestris, to be more exact. She didn't particularly mind the public appearances, the fanciful gatherings or sitting-in on meetings that would be better advised by someone who had more of an eye for decorating, but she prefered to be by his side. She would always prefer being the lieutenant over the first lady. But she was both now, and that involved her monthly afternoon tea receptions with the former first lady, a precedent set long before either of them were given the title.

"We've considered it." Riza replied kindly. "But for now at least, neither of us have the time, and it isn't fair to bring a child into the world knowing they'll never see their parents."

"Oh, I certainly understand that." Mrs. Bradley agreed. "Of course, I had much more time to be with Selim than Mr. Bradley did. But I could tell that not seeing much of his father really took its toll on him." Her eyes grew increasingly distant as she spoke, a pleasant smile forced to remain on her melancholy face. "It still does."

"And how is Selim?" Riza asked tenderly.

She witnessed the spark return to Mrs. Bradley's eyes as she replied "He's wonderful." The boy was her pride and joy, and usually wound up being their main area of conversation each month. This didn't bother Riza one bit. She had learned how to fuse her first-lady duties and her military duties when possible, and these meetings were certainly one of those times. Any information she could gain on the homunculus was invaluable to the state. "His alchemy tutor says he's running out of things to teach! Of course, he's only a master of the basics, but I imagine we'll have to hire a more advanced alchemy teacher very soon!"

"Already?" Riza asked. "That's quite an achievement."

"I know! And at thirteen years old, too!" She gushed. "You don't suppose Roy could free up his schedule enough to take on a student, do you?"

Both women laughed. "Unless you want your house burnt down, I wouldn't recommend it." Riza joked. "However, being a state alchemist, I'm sure Roy would be able to come up with plenty of willing and able alchemists to teach Selim."

"Really?" The woman's eyes nearly sparkled. "I wouldn't want to trouble—"

"It's no trouble at all!" Riza assured her with a smile. "Really."

"Thank you very much! Selim will be thrilled to find out that the famous Roy Mustang hand-picked a teacher just for him!"

"We wouldn't want it any other way."

Riza took another sip of her tea.  _I may be your wife, Roy Mustang,_ she thought.  _but don't forget that first and foremost, I'm your eyes and ears._

* * *

 

"An alchemy teacher, huh?" He said. "What makes you think I can choose a proper teacher for him when I don't even know which branch of alchemy he wants to master?"

"I assumed that your main concern wouldn't be in the alchemical ability of the boy so much as it would be in choosing an alchemist we can  _trust._ "

Roy Mustang looked up from the file he was studying to meet Riza's gaze. At one time he would've been shocked to see her in a skirt and blouse and not in the blue military uniform usually worn during these sort of conversations, but he had grown accustomed to it. There was no clear line between Riza Mustang the woman and Riza Mustang the soldier.

" _Dear_ ," He said wryly, his lips twisted into a self-satisfied smirk. "Are you really suggesting we use this as an opportunity to  _spy_  on Selim Bradley?"

"Are you inferring that you  _don't_  think Selim's progression as an alchemist should be under careful surveillance?" She replied so stoically it was almost scathing. " _Dear._ "

He smiled. "Not at all. It's an issue of national security as far as I'm concerned." He dropped the file onto his desk where he rested his elbows. "Just who did you have in mind for this reconnaissance?"

"I believe that's your call, sir." She replied. "You're the alchemist, after all."

"I have a few ideas, yes. But I know you too well to think that you haven't already thought up a good list of candidates.  _And_ …" He leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head. "If I'm not wrong, we have the same name at the top of our lists."

She sighed in agreement. "He won't be happy about this."

His smirk returned. "He doesn't have to be."

"Would you like me to give him a call?"

"No, thanks." He reached for the phone on the back of his desk. "I think I can handle this one myself."

* * *

 

It was a drizzly early autumn day in the quiet town of Resembool and Winry Elric had just asked her husband to call their children inside. There was going to be a rainstorm later—she could tell by Ed's complaints of a sore automail port—and she didn't want them to get stuck in it. When Ed looked outside, he could see a few rays of sunlight off in the distance, and he took in the sight of them before they disappeared. The sky was a cornflower blue; cloudy, but by no means dismal.

His children were nowhere in sight, so he stepped out onto the damp grass to check around back. He didn't have on any shoes, but that was no matter. He liked the coolness of the tiny raindrops that clung to the green blades beneath his feet, or,  _foot,_  rather. But before he even reached the backyard, he could hear the youthful voices of his son and daughter and—turning the corner—he saw them sitting in the wet grass with their dog, wagging its tail longingly at their playfulness.

"Pinny, play!" The young girl demanded, throwing a ball with all the might she held in her little body. The dog watched where it landed but made no attempt to retrieve it. "Why won't you  _play?_ "

"Because her ports or sore, dummy!" The older boy said. "She hasn't even had the automail for a year yet, and it's  _raining_! She's probably in a lot of pain."

The little girl huffed and dropped to the ground. "Whatever, gearhead." She pet the dog dispiritedly. "If  _I'm_  the dummy then how come  _you_  can't do alchemy?"

"Because alchemy is  _stupid!"_  He shouted, his cheeks coloring in embarrassment.

"I'll tell dad you said that!" The girl shouted back, clumsily regaining her footing and running towards the little house.

"Oh no you won't!" He started after her.

Edward blinked in bewilderment. "Well that was easy."

Pinny barked at the back door from her spot in the grass and made a few attempts to inch towards the house, but she would yelp and give up after a few movements and resort again to barking.

Ed sighed. He certainly remembered those days. She was only on her seventh month of automail rehabilitation and even by Ed's standards she was handling it like a champ. But these rainy days were her achilles heel. She put on a strong face for her family, but Ed knew that this sort of weather was damn near torture with healing ports.

Ed walked over to meet her and as soon as she spotted him her tail wagged violently in excitement. He laughed at her and kneeled down to pat her on the head. "Calm down, girl! Don't hurt yourself."

It wasn't easy when his childhood dog, Din, had died a few years back. The dog had been around for as long as he could remember, her presence was both calming and comfortable. They buried her right beside granny—per Pinako's wish—and eventually they were able to cope with the losses and move forward with their lives, but as their children became older, Ed and Winry both thought that a dog would be the perfect addition to their little family. So when Winry spotted the little brown mutt with one leg missing, she nearly burst into tears right there in the animal shelter. They decided to name her after granny, Winry insisted the old woman would think of no better way to be honored were she still alive, and then fitted her for automail. Leave it to Winry to take a crippled little animal nobody else would want and give it not only a new leg but a loving home.

Ed smiled and then picked her up, cradling her so that he wouldn't irritate her port any further, and took her inside. She licked his hand in thanks as he set her on her soft bed in the living room. He stroked her head a few times before joining his family for dinner.

They sat down to a rainy day favorite—chicken and vegetable soup in rice with homemade bread—and ate their dinner in peace.

"Dad?" The boy asked.

"Yeah, Andrew?"

"Do you think alchemy could make Pinny's leg feel better?"

Edward met his son's hopeful and abashed eyes. "I don't think so, kid." He finally said. "It just takes the body getting used to it which, unfortunately, takes a long time."

"Do you think there's a way to make it go faster?"

"With alchemy?"

He nodded.

Ed smiled. He knew his son wasn't the alchemy-fanatic that he was (or his sister was turning out to be) but he knew that Andrew cared infinitely for others. He's wanted to lessen the suffering of every creature since his brain could wrap around the  _concept_  of suffering. He'd been particularly interested in his mother's automail shop that she ran in Resembool and, after being allowed to assist with Pinny's operation, a passion had kindled deep inside of him.

"I don't know about alchemy, but you could definitely give alkahestry a shot."

"That's what Uncle Al and Aunt Mei can do, right?" His daughter piped up chipperly.

Edward laughed. "That's right!"

"Do you think I could learn alkahestry too?" She was practically bouncing out of her chair.

"I think you can learn anything you want, kiddo." He replied with a smile. She sat back down triumphantly.

"Maybe the two of you can work together to help out people with automail." Winry suggested.

The two children eyed each other across the table before quickly looking away.

"Yeah,  _maybe_." The boy said doubtfully.

Ed and Winry smiled at each other. If there's one thing both children inherited from  _both_  parents. it was stubbornness.

"Oh!" Winry hopped in her chair. "I almost forgot! We have leftover apple pie for dessert!"

"Alright!" All three of them replied with wide smiles.

Winry scuttled out of her chair and towards the ice box. "Ed, can you get the plates?"

"Sure." He replied standing to his feet. He had just opened the cabinet door when a loud ringing pealed through the kitchen.

"Andrew, could you get that?" Winry asked.

The boy hopped out of his chair to pick up the phone's receiver. "Hello?" He said. "Yes, this is Andrew Elric." He paused and listened for the response. "Um, yeah, sure. Hang on. Dad?"

Edward looked over at his son who was holding the receiver out towards him. "It's for you."

"Who is it?" Ed asked, dessert plates in hand.

"Who is this?" Andrew repeated as he brought the receiver back to his face. After listening for the reply, he looked back at his father and said "Some guy called the Fuhrer?"

Ed nearly dropped the plates he was holding. Colonel Bastard had never called him at his house before. Hell, he hadn't even  _seen_ him since the commemoration and that had been five years ago!

"Ed?" Winry noticed her husband's reaction. "Would you like me to talk to him?"

Edward gulped. If the Fuhrer was calling him— _him_ , of all people—then it couldn't be good, could it?

"No, no." He finally responded, collecting himself. "I've got it." It was probably nothing. Just the Colonel up to his stupid ways, as usual.

Ed took the mouthpiece from his son and brought it to his face.

"To what do I owe this  _pleasure,_ Colonel Birdbrain?" Ed said derisively.

Winry watched her husband carefully, waiting for the situation to get sticky, as it usually did when Mustang was involved.

"Well, it's not every day that I get a call from my idiot of a commanding officer." Ed continued to mock. "A favor, huh? I don't know what you expect from an alchemist who can no longer use alchemy but I'll keep an open mind." He smirked.

And then suddenly, the smirk was gone.

" _WHAAAAAAAT?"_  Ed was screaming into the phone, face red and veins popping. "YOU EXPECT ME TO TEACH THAT LITTLE PUNK-ASS HOW TO CONTROL A WEAPONIZED SCIENCE? NO WAY IN HELL, MUSTANG! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR  _MIND!_ "

Winry gasped. She was used to Ed's profane outbursts, but their kids certainly weren't. He was usually able to control them around his children, but he had  _clearly_  forgotten about them. He continued to stammer obscenities as Winry rounded up her wide-eyed children. "C'mon, kids. Let's go upstairs!" She said, ushering them quickly out of the room.

"You know he tried to  _kill_  us, right? Remember that? He tried to kill the entire damn country!"

"No, Edward, he didn't." Roy replied cooly. " _Pride_  did. Selim is just-"

"Just the  _same damn homunculus!_ I don't know what the hell you're thinking but-"

"Edward, I  _know_  he's a homunculus." Frustration grew in the Flame Alchemist's voice.

"Then why the hell are you trying to get me to teach him alchemy?"

"Because we need someone to... _track_  his progression."

Mustang's carefully selected words managed to catch Edward's attention. "His progression?"

"Selim Bradley has yet to show signs of suspicious behavior pertaining to his past life as the homunculus Pride." Roy explained. "That being said, he  _is_  still the homunculus and, whether we like it or not, he  _is_ still somewhat of an alchemical prodigy. Not unlike yourself." Ed cringed at the comparison as Roy continued. "I need someone I can trust to make sure he doesn't begin showing interest in things… beyond our domain."

Roy didn't have to clarify what he meant by that.

"You want me to spy on him?"

"Essentially, yes,"

He was silent for a moment, unsure what to think of the offer.

"It would be your decision as to where the lessons would take place, in Resembool or Central. Arrangements could be made for your family to live in Central for the time being if you so desired."

A fierce protectiveness leapt through Edward at the thought. "I don't want that monster anywhere  _near_  my family."

"I understand." Roy replied. "I won't ask you to answer right away. I know it's a lot to ask. Just let me know as soon as possible."

Edward swallowed. "Fine."

"Goodbye, Fullmetal."

"Yeah." Ed said before dropping the phone back on it's base. He cursed under his breath, his hand against the wall for support.

"Oh, so you  _do_  know how to be quiet about it?"

Edward looked over to see his wife standing cross-armed in the doorway, her expression scolding.

After a moment, Ed realized what she was referring to and blushed at his mistake. "Ah.. I'll apologize to them later. Listen, Win?"

She sensed the weight behind his voice and immediately softened her demeanor. "Yeah?"

"I need you to help me figure something out."

 

"Well, sir?" Riza implored as her husband hung up the phone.

"He'll think it over. Until he's made up his mind, we shouldn't ask anyone else."

Riza nodded. "And do you think he'll do it?"

Roy smirked. "If there's one thing I know about Fullmetal, it's that he can't stay out of trouble for long."

Riza smiled. "Yes, you two seem to have that in common."

* * *

 

Selim Bradley stared out the classroom window of Central Academy, the droning of his teacher and snickering of his classmates drown out by his anticipation for tonight's big news. His mother had said it would be a surprise, but he had put enough pieces together that it involved a new alchemy teacher. The Fuhrer and state alchemist Roy Mustang had invited Selim and his mother to dinner tonight, and event that oddly lined up with his previous alchemy teacher's retirement to Aerugo. He was almost certain the two events were about as separate as sulfur and brimstone. No, Selim didn't have to delve too deep in his fantasies to expect a new teacher, but what Selim couldn't stop imagining was  _who_  it was going to be. It couldn't be the Flame Alchemist himself, though his heart did flutter at the idea. But being as he was the Fuhrer, there would be no time to be a teacher to an aspiring alchemist. He assumed it would be either a current or retired State Alchemist, any of which Selim would be more than thrilled to study under. But there was one title—one  _name_ —that kept running through his deepest hopes.

_The Fullmetal Alchemist._

His stomach sank and his heart lifted when he let his mind indulge in the possibility. To be taught by Edward Elric himself was something Selim wasn't sure he could ever be used to. The man was not just the hero of Amestris, but one of Selim's personal heroes, of which there only three: Fuhrer and Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang, Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric, and his father, former Fuhrer of Amestris, King Bradley. No person would ever be held in higher regard than the three of them, and his half-hearted attempts to pay attention during class couldn't prevent his mind from playing out a million different ways that the reveal could take place. Would he be there waiting for him when he arrived? Perhaps he would show up at Selim's house beforehand...no. It was most likely that he would either be at the Fuhrer's home when dinner started or show up during. But what if—

"Selim!" A voice broke his thoughts, suddenly reminding he was sitting in literature class at Central Academy. "Why are you still sitting here? The bell rang!" He met the eyes of his best friend, Henry Meng, whose hands were planted firmly on the front of Selim's desk.

"Sorry." Selim said, finally returning to reality. "I was just thinking."

Henry rolled his eyes playfully. "You're  _always_  thinking! C'mon, we're gonna be late!"

Selim nodded once. "Coming!" He gathered his books in his arms and slid his bag over his shoulder before following his friend out of the classroom.

"There you two are!" A blonde greeted them in the hall. "C'mon, we've gotta get all the way to science hall!"

"I know!" Henry said in mock agitation. "You can blame Selim if we're late."

"You didn't accidentally transmute your desk again, did you?" The blonde girl asked with a smirk.

Selim blushed at the recollection. He had gotten so bored during class that he scribbled transmutation circles in his notes and accidentally activated them, transmuting his desk into an unrecognizable mass of wood. The teacher looked utterly shocked, the students were all amazed, and Selim thought for sure he would get a referral.

Henry laughed heartily. "You'd have known if he did, Nat! Selim would've been redder than Matt Hargis's hair!"

"Could you keep it down?" Selim begged urgently. "What if he hears you?"

"You shouldn't be scared of him, Selim." Natalie said. "It's not like he's strong enough to beat you up. And you can use alchemy to fight, right?"

"He's not gonna fight me." Selim said, slightly embarrassed. "He's just… annoying. I don't wanna deal with him today."

"No kidding!" Henry firmly agreed. "Oh, hey! My mom is making some authentic Xingese cuisine tonight if you guys wanna come!"

"Yes!" Natalie agreed excitedly. "Your mom is the best cook ever!"

"Alright! How 'bout you, Selim?"

"Um...actually." Selim always found it hard to refuse his friends, but this was incredibly important. "I can't tonight."

Henry's face fell. " _Whaaaat?_ " He whined. " _Whyyy?_  You  _love_  Xingese food!"

Selim always tried to avoid mentioning his close relations to the Fuhrer to his friend. It made him come across as self-important and he didn't want them to see him as such. "I know, but I sort of have a… thing tonight."

"What's so important that you have to miss my mom's famous cooking?" Henry bugged.

Selim sighed internally, figuring there was no way out without telling them the truth. "I'm sort of having dinner… at the Fuhrer's mansion."

Natalie's face lit up. "Wow! That  _is_  important!"

"No fair!" Henry piped up. "What for?"

"I'm not sure, exactly." He half-lied.

"Well whatever it is, it must be  _huge_!" Natalie beamed. "You're eating with the Fuhrer himself?"

Selim nodded, clutching the strap of his bag tighter.

"That's so cool." she said dreamily.

"You're just saying that 'cause you think Fuhrer Mustang is  _hot_." Henry teased.

Natalie flushed red. "I—I do not!" She swatted him with a notebook.

"You better watch out for his wife." He warned. "They say she's the best shot in all of Amestris! The deadliest sniper on and off the battlefield! The  _Hawk's Eye…_ "

"Sounds like  _you've_  got a crush?" Natalie bit back.

"Of course I do!" Henry smiled. "Who wouldn't? She's deadly  _and_  hot?"

"On that uh...note." Selim stepped in. "This is my class so… I'll see you guys later."

" _Don't forget about us!_ " Henry shouted dramatically as he continued down the hall while Natalie just waved and rolled her eyes at the Xingese boy/ Selim smiled awkwardly in return and went into the classroom.

He immediately noticed arrangements of flasks, tubes, and an assortment of different liquids at each station, which could only mean one thing: today was a lab day.

Selim liked lab days. He was a couple grades younger than the rest of the students in the class (alchemy had given him a nice head start) and, because there was an odd number of students and Selim was at the top of the class, he got to perform his lab duties alone. It was nice. Chemistry was a lot like alchemy. Alchemy requires a decent knowledge of the subject mixed with a spiritual and mental control, but revisiting the building blocks was always at least fun. And since Selim was never one for unnecessary social interaction, lab days were a win-win.

He took a seat at his usual station just as the bell rang and once he was situated, he gave gave his attention to his teacher at the front of the room, only to have his breath taken. His teacher was not alone.

There was a girl.

An Ishvalan girl.

And his teacher was walking her over to Selim's station.

Selim finally noticed that he was gaping, and he threw his gaze down to his lap.  _Nice going._ He scolded himself.

"Prima, this is Selim." His teacher spoke, and Selim slowly inclined his head to look the girl in the face, hopefully without his mouth hanging wide open. "He's the best in the class and he's in your grade, so this should be a very nice partnership."

_Partnership? My grade?_  Selim gulped. This was  _not_  how lab days were supposed to go.

"Selim, this is Prima. She's going to be your lab partner from now on."

_From now on._  Selim was one hundred percent certain that his face had either flushed red or drained white, but the girl kindly extended her hand and offered him a warm smile that reached her striking rose-colored eyes. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Selim."

Selim stared at her face perhaps a second longer than he should've. "S-same to you." He stammered, accepting her handshake and praying his hands hadn't turned clammy so quickly, and she took her seat on the lab stool beside him. Her hair fell in long, flowing waves, its white color shining brilliantly against the dark blue of the school uniform. She wore glasses with large rounded frames and, while most people seemed to hide behind their glasses, this girl's alacrity seemed to shine despite them. Although nothing short of an opaque  _wall_  could dampen her stunning red irises.

Selim had to force himself to stop staring. He looked straight at his teacher who had returned to the front of the room, but his mind still lingered on the girl next to him. He had only met two Ishvalans before, one of them being General Armstrong's Lieutenant Miles, and the other being his civilian friend Pravda (formerly known as Scar). They were famous for their work in the restoration of Ishval, and they frequented Central in their work. They weren't so...scary.  _Is that the right word?_  Selim thought to himself.

"So, are you ready to get started?" She asked, breaking Selim out of his thoughts and disorienting him for a moment.

"Oh...uh...yeah." He agreed, trusting that she listened to the teacher's instructions because he certainly hadn't.

"Great!" She smiled, handing him a pair of safety goggles before applying her own. "Let's do it!"

Before Selim could put his on and finish reading the first step, Prima had already begun, pouring liquid from the flask into five different test tubes.

"Could you measure out the five substances?"

"Oh, yeah sure!" He said, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, and began drawing liquids from the smaller beakers with a dropper and carefully put three drops of each into the test tubes Prima had prepared.

"Okay, now we record our predictions…" She said, more to herself than Selim, he thought, and began scrawling her predictions on her lab sheet. Selim watched her for a moment before writing his own and much briefer predictions.

"Look at that!" She exclaimed, looking down at his paper. "We predicted the same thing without even consulting!" then she looked up at him and gave him a smile that left him momentarily breathless. "I guess we make a good team!"

He laughed nervously. "Guess so." He then shifted his gaze to the full-blown paragraph she had on her paper. "You write a bit more than I do, though."

Her cheeks turned a distracting shade of pink and she glanced down at her work. "Yeah I know… I can't help it. I just get really carried away with chemistry. It's my favorite!" She cast her burgundy eyes on him again, both to his distress and delight. "You're a first year, too, right?"

Selim blinked and then nodded.

"How did you get into the third year chemistry class?"

"Oh, um… well." This time, his cheeks were the ones to turn pink. "I sort of had a head start."

Her burgundy eyes implored for more information.

"Because I'm sort an… alchemist."

"An  _alchemist!_ " Her face lit up. "That's so cool! How long have you been studying it?"

Selim's heart seemed to calm a bit at her reaction, though he didn't know why he cared so much about her opinion of him. "Since I was eight." He replied.

"Wow. That's really amazing, Selim!"

His heart gushed inside of his chest, the sudden blood-rush making him feel somewhat light headed but, surprisingly, not in a bad way.

"Thanks." He blushed. "What about you?"

"Me?" She repeated, then shrugged. "I don't know. I've just always liked it. When I took my placement tests for transfer, they put me in this class. I thought they had made a mistake but they insisted this was the right fit." Then she smiled at him. "I'm beginning to think they're right!"

He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face any more than he could stop the dull heat that began to flush through his veins at her words. And for a moment, they just sat there smiling at each other.

"Oh!" Selim realized with a jolt. "I guess we should check our solutions!"

"Oh, you're right!" Prima laughed. "Woops!"

They examined the color, the activity, and any other variable the solutions presented them and recorded their observations on their lab sheets, Prima with thoroughness and Selim with brevity.

"I guess now we add the salts." Prima said, pulling the tray of crystals closer. She used the tweezers to pick up some of the larger crystals and then dropped them into the five tubes, both of them noting each reaction, what made them differ and what made them similar. Selim couldn't help but find himself relating to the bubbling, fizzing tubes reacting in response to the unknown substance Prima had dropped.

They wrote out their final observations and conclusion within a few minutes, and with plenty of time to spare.

"I think we finished a lot earlier than everyone else…" Prima said, her voice slightly unsure. "Did we miss a step?"

"I don't… I don't think so." He said. "I think we just work fast."

"Well when one of us is an alchemist, this kind of stuff is a piece of cake." She laughed.

"Have you ever thought about practicing alchemy before?" He said, unsure of how else he could proceed with the conversation.

She shrugged. "It's crossed my mind once or twice, but… it's sort of taboo in Ishvalan culture. Chemistry, though, is more widely accepted."

"Oh, that's a shame." Selim said. He could feel his tense nerves slowly unwind as they spoke of the more familiar topic. "You know… your name—Prima—has alchemical meaning."

"It does?" Her red eyes widening with curiosity.

"Uh huh! Um… have you ever heard the phrase 'all is one and one is all'?"

"I… I believe I  _have_ , actually."

He smiled. "Well, the all can also be referred to as the First Matter or, more commonly, Prima Materia."

She blinked a few times before speaking. "Okay, what does that mean?"

"Okay, well—" He shifted on his stool so that his whole body was facing her and spoke freely, his hands working in tandem with his words. "Basically, what it  _means_  is that there is the 'one',which is a thing. You, me, this desk, any singular thing you can think of, is the 'one'. Then, there is the 'all', which is essentially a vast ocean of energy. The universe, everything seen and unseen. But obviously, they can not be separate. The all can not be the all unless the one is a part of it. Otherwise, it's just  _almost_  the all. But similarly, the one cannot exist unless it is a part of the all. So while they are different, they are not separate. Prima Materia."

Her crimson eyes stared silently into his for a moment, carefully absorbing everything he had said and revealing a hint of wonder at the same time.

"That's…" she began slowly. "that's  _really_  cool, Selim."

He felt the same gushing feeling he had felt earlier, but this time it was much more pleasant. "Well… I didn't come up with it." He smiled nervously. "it's been an alchemist's code for ages!"

She laughed. "Still, it's very interesting!"

"If you think so, you should study alchemy. I think you'd be great at it."

"I'll consider it." She replied.

She had barely finished her sentence before the final bell rang, dismissing Central Academy for the day.

And, for the first time ever, Selim found himself wishing that the bell hadn't rung.

Prima stood to her feet, slung her backpack over her shoulder and once again, extended her hand towards Selim."

"Well, it was wonderful meeting you, Selim."

He shuffled out of his seat and found it in him to stand tall. He reached out with his own hand and touched her for the second time that day.

"It was wonderful meeting you, too, Prima." he said genuinely.

She broke contact and headed into the hallway. "See you tomorrow!"

"See ya." He replied, more to himself than to her, as she disappeared into the hoard of students in the hallways.

And Selim knew that lab days were going to be great from now on.

* * *

 

Riza Hawkeye hung up the phone in the Fuhrer's office and turned to her husband. "that was the station, sir. The train from Resembool has been delayed."

"Delayed?" Her husband repeated, organizing the finished paperwork that had been on his desk. "By how long? He was cutting it close already."

"About an hour. They had to stop for some emergency maintenance."

Roy sighed. "I suppose that would put him arriving in Central just as dinner starts."

"Should we call and postpone?"

"I don't really see a need to." Roy replied as he slid his dark jacket over his uniform. "Fullmetal always likes a dramatic entrance. I wouldn't be surprised if he caused the delay himself."

Riza smiled. "That doesn't sound too unlike him."

Roy grabbed Riza's jacket off of the coat hook and held it open for her. "Do you think Selim had any idea about tonight?"

"Well" She began, sliding her arms into the satin black sleeves. "Homunculus or not, he  _is_  very sharp. I'm sure he's at least expecting  _something_  of the sort."

"I suppose you're right. He's never been easy to surprise."

Riza nearly rolled her eyes at her husband's unwillingness to distinguish the boy from the homunculus, but she knew she found herself guilty of the same thing more often than not. After all, sending Edward had been  _her_  idea to begin with, but she couldn't help but feel a slight pang of guilt every time she suspected the boy.

"Whether he's surprised or not, he'll still be absolutely thrilled. And to be frank, I'll be glad to see it."

Roy felt the slightest tinge of discomfort at her words but after remembering his excitement upon learning Master Hawkeye had selected him as a student, he couldn't help but nod in agreement with her sentiment.

* * *

 

— _while it is widely agreed upon that the inception of Amestris found its origins in Alchemy, it is still debated as to where exactly alchemy found its origins. The most common belief (and most historically supported) is that it was introduced in the area we now know as Central by a Xerxesian philosopher. However, some scholars debate whether or not—_

Selim had tried reading the assigned pages from history class god knows  _how_  many times. He had been at it for an hour and had only made it to the third page of the ten assigned. This should've taken him forty-five minutes at most but he could not for the life of him get himself to focus.

His brain was all over the place. It dove into each situation that could imaginably happen at the Fuhrer's dinner, it dove into any possible candidate for his new alchemy teacher (though it prefered to entertain the idea that it was going to be Edward Elric) and for some reason he couldn't get that girl Prima out of his head!

She was pretty, he supposed.  _Really_ pretty. But that had never particularly mattered to him before. Natalie was pretty and his mind never dwelled on  _her._  But she was also very smart. Alchemy had always given him an edge in Chemistry, but she managed to have the same edge at the same age without his head start. It was very impressive. Was that why? he supposed it could've also been that she was Ishvalan, though he didn't really believe in giving any one special treatment for their race. Amestrian, Xingese, Cretan, Ishvalan-They were all just people. There were good people and bad people. Race wasn't a factor. Although, perhaps the Ishvalans were a lot more foreign to him, thus, more enthralling. Still… that couldn't be it. So  _what—_

"Selim?" His mother called from the bottom of the stairs. He got up from his desk and poked his head through his doorway, seeing over the foyer and into the main room and the base of the stairs.

"Yeah?" He called back.

"Why don't you get dressed for dinner. We're leaving in half an hour."

Sheesh, was it that late already? "Okay, mom!" he said before going back inside his room.

He sighed.

Dinner with the Fuhrer. The occasion didn't call quite for a tuxedo, but it did earn something a bit more formal than his khaki shorts and knit sweater. He put his history notes inside his textbook as a bookmark, not liking leaving his work space untidy, and put the book back into his school bag. Then he went to his closet and picked out a white dress shirt, black slacks, a dark sweater vest and a tie.

"Oh, Selim! You look so handsome!" His mother gushed upon seeing him. She placed a hand lovingly on his head. "You really should do  _something_  about your hair though. It's improper to keep it so unkempt."

He remembered as young child his mother always kept his hair short. She liked it that way, always said it looked so well-kept. Selim, however, grew to hate it. With such short hair, there was never anything to cover his forehead, and that meant there was nowhere for his birthmark to hide. His mother loved it. "It's special. It's part of what makes you so you." But no one else seemed to feel that way, especially the kids at school. They pointed and teased until Selim just didn't bother trying to make friends. Although, he supposed he could credit the unusual mark with his friendship with Henry. Young kids didn't take too well to young Xingese boy, especially one that spoke a strange language. They found themselves being outcasts together, and together they managed to sneak their way into normalcy and out of social torture.

"It's  _fine_ , mom." He said. "If the Fuhrer can wear his hair like this then I can, too."

"But he combs it back for special occasions." She said.

"I bet it won't be combed back tonight." He countered.

His mother laughed. "Always so stubborn." She pushed his bangs gently to the side and placed a kiss right on his birthmark. "Well, if you're ready, then I supposed we can go."

He ran his fingers through his bangs and pushed them back into place.

"Alright." He took a deep breath, feeling his dormant nerves beginning to kick back in ten-fold. The anticipation twisted through his core and rang through his head. He had to close his eyes and focus on breathing steadily for a moment, calming his nerves as much as he could under the given circumstances. He opened his eyes and gave his mother a confident smile. "Let's go."

Mrs. Bradley smiled, watching her boy walk in front of her to the car. She could tell he was nervous, and his mannerisms had reminded her of a scared little fox. But watching him walk confidently, she couldn't help but see him as the man he would soon become.  _Where does the time go?_ She thought to herself. She had watched him grow, praised him in his many accomplishments and helped through his times of uncertainty, just as any mother would for her child.  _How silly of them._  She thought with a smile.  _To think that my precious boy could ever become a monster._

She followed him into the back seat and their driver started the car. They were off to the Fuhrer's mansion, where Selim was in for the surprise of his life.


	3. Chapter 2

" _It sneers of pride before a fall,_

_but the bitter pride comes after:"_

 

Selim was nothing but nerves when he arrived at the Fuhrer's mansion, any slight hint of confidence he had forced himself to have vanished into the whirlwind of anticipation that swirled inside of him. Mrs. Mustang greeted them personally at the door, dressed similarly to his mother (though he had to admit, he wasn't very perceptive to women's fashion) and escorted them kindly to the smaller dining room used for less extravagant dinners such as this. The table could seat six, but there were only four places set.

Selim frowned slightly, his heart overreacting to every little detail, before telling himself that they wouldn't set a place for a surprise guest, it would spoil it. He was sure Edward Elric—or, _someone_ , rather—would be arriving later.

He gulped. _Right?_

A male servant pulled out two chairs beside each other for Selim and Mrs. Bradley while Roy pulled another chair out for his wife. Just as she was about to seat herself, another butler entered through the second door of the dining room and informed his masters that there was an important phone call waiting for one of them to answer.

The couple looked at each other for a moment, both silently pleading for the other to take it, before Mrs. Mustang finally sighed and stood.

"Excuse me." She said politely to her guests. "I'll be back shortly." She gave a smile and then followed the butler through the second doorway.

Selim watched her carefully as she left and wondered whether or not that phone call had anything to do with him.

 _Of course not, dummy._ He told himself. _Quit being so conceited._

"So, Selim." Mr. Mustang's voice broke through Selim's thoughts. "How is school going?"

 _School?_ School had been the furthest thing from his mind right now, and it took him a moment to remember how he felt about it before answering the Fuhrer's question. "It's going really well!" He replied, almost too excitedly, as the memories of his friends and his studies and chemistry class rushed into his mind. He then made a hard and conscious effort to reel in his nerves. If he let himself feel this sort of adrenaline at every single thing, he was going to have a heart attack before the dinner was over. He cleared his throat and continued. "My teachers are great and classes are fun, so… it's pretty good, I suppose."

Roy nodded in acknowledgement of his answer. "Glad to hear it!" He said, then gave a little smirk to his next words. "Do you have many friends? A girlfriend perhaps?"

Then Selim felt his cheeks burn red. Why was he thinking about Prima again? He had enough inexplicable emotion to deal with right now, he did _not_ need to add more onto the pile. He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts before responding.

"Uh, yeah, a—uh, a few." He stammered. " _Friends_ , that is!" His blush deepened. "Not girlfriends." He laughed nervously. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Roy laughed light-heartedly in an attempt to calm the poor boy's obvious nerves and perhaps even to calm his own. "Well there's absolutely nothing wrong with that." He smiled. "Your friends will take you far."

"Roy?" Riza called politely from the doorway, pulling Roy's attention away from the homunculus. "Would you mind stepping out here for a moment?"

"Of course." He said, smiling as he stood. "Pardon us for just a moment." He said to his guests before joining his wife. When they were in the next room and the door had been closed, Riza's face grew distraught and she sighed.

"That was the driver." She said. "Edward didn't arrive at the station."

Roy looked at her apprehensively for a moment. "The train was delayed again?"

Riza shook her head. "No, the train arrived, but he wasn't on it."

Roy could feel the apprehension transform slowly into a flicker of anger inside his stomach. "You mean he _bailed?_ " He said in a low but shocked voice.

"That's what it looks like." She replied empathetically.

The flicker grew into a flame. "That little _coward_!"

"Sir, I—"

"Get him on the phone." Roy ordered.

"We don't know where he is."

"Well we can try his house. If he's not there maybe Winry can tell us something."

"Yes, sir." She replied. "Should I leave it to you and go back out there?"

"No." He said firmly but gently. "Stay here. They'll be fine."

She nodded in compliance. It was rude to leave them on their own for more than a short while, but this was an important matter, and If her husband wouldn't have needed her to be there, he would've excused her. So she stayed.

The muffled ringing sound on the other end of the line sounded for a moment before a voice that was undeniably Winry's answered.

"Hello?" She asked.

"Winry, it's Roy." He said quickly. "Is Edward there?"

She hesitated and Roy couldn't help when his impatience grew. Finally, Winry sighed and answered his question. "I was actually about to call you." Her voice was a mix of ruefulness and something quite a bit harsher. "Edward just got here. I can _see_ if I can get him on the phone, but—"

"That won't be necessary." Roy said, trying to hide the anger in his voice.

"Look, I'm really sorry." Winry said knowingly. "To be honest, I'm kinda pissed off at him myself."

"Well…" He sighed. " Just try to talk some sense into him, alright?"

"I was planning on it." She said with a bite to match Roy's.

"And make sure he knows there'll be hell to pay."

"Oh, he'll know it, alright."

Roy smiled in spite of himself. "Thank you Winry."

"No problem. Let me know if there's anything else I can do."

"Will do. Goodbye."

Roy hung the phone up resolutely and planted his hands on the small table and rested his weight on his arms. "Well, he's not coming."

"I gathered as much." Riza replied.

Roy shoved the phone table angrily against the wall, causing the pictures frames and adjacent objects to rattle violently.

"Dammit, Fullmetal!" He growled. "What do we do now?"

Riza remained unfazed by her husband's temper, her cool demeanor a solid support for him in times of emotional stress. "We'll be sure to find someone else. There are plenty of willing and able alchemists that we can trust."

"And what are we supposed to tell them? They're expecting _something_ from us."

"Well..." She thought for a moment. "I believe you were discussing something earlier with a few of the state alchemists that are currently in Central. Something about a summer program."

He saw her small smirk and instantly knew that not only had she just thought of this, but that she knew exactly what she talking about, too. He couldn't help but smile. She was an excellent choice for his first lady.

The first course had already been served and on the table before Fuhrer Mustang and his wife returned. It was a simple salad—dark greens, grated cheese, vegetables—but Selim's mother had told him not to eat until their hosts returned. _That_ , at least, wasn't hard for him. A salad wasn't the most enticing thing in the world and, if he was being honest, the absence of the Fuhrer and First Lady was making him feel a bit too anxious to eat anyway. His thoughts traveled each alley of possibility at what their absence could mean. His rational thinking told him that it was just the Fuhrer's duty, he probably had to deal with important business at any time of day or night. It had nothing to do with Selim at all. But his less-rational mind feared the plans to reveal Selim's dream to him had been torn away unexpectedly. A dream he had not even been promised at this point. A part of him scolded himself for getting so excited over something he had never been guaranteed and something that was so obviously not going to happen.

So Selim just stared anxiously at his salad, awaiting their host's return.

"We apologize for keeping you waiting." Mrs. Mustang said, re-entering with her husband in tow. Selim had been so on edge that their return startled him and he jolted in his chair.

"It's part of the job." Roy added in a light tone. "Never a moment of peace."

Mrs. Bradley laughed. "Oh, believe me, I know. I served my time as First Lady, I understand."

"You didn't have to wait for us." Mrs. Mustang said apologetically. "Please, go right ahead and eat."

And they did, the rest of the dinner going by just as one would expect. Polite dinner conversation about school, the weather, work stories, and, towards the end of dessert, alchemy, and Selim's nerves barely quieted at all. But by their last topic of conversation, his heart raced inside his chest even wilder than it had before.

"While we're on that subject." The Fuhrer said as a butler removed their empty plates from the table. "Selim, there is something I'd like to talk to you about."

 _Oh, god, this is it!_ He swallowed down his urge to scream in impatience, but he'd been raised with manners and he would respond with such no matter how loud his pulse raced inside his ears.

"Y—" he cleared his throat. "yes, sir."

The boy's excitement was hard to miss, Riza noted, and the frustration in her husband's eyes, unreadable to anyone else, was evident to her as well. Her heart ached for Selim, a strange sentiment to mix with the underlying suspicion.

"You've expressed interest in becoming a State Alchemist for quite some time now. And just from talking with you tonight, I can see you're well on your way to becoming one." Roy had to force himself not to bite his tongue at the words.

Selim gulped. The room had become very hot in just a matter of moments. His bangs began to stick to his forehead with sweat and he was sure that everyone could visibly see his heart pounding. But his eyes remained locked on the Fuhrer's, even if his hands were trembling in his lap and he felt like the room was a million degrees.

"Now, nothing's been announced or solidified yet" Selim hung on every word the man spoke, his mind unable to process them fast enough to be overanalyzed. Man, it was _really_ hot in here. Selim wasn't sure he could take much more. _Please, just let this torture end!_

"But I thought I'd tell you that the State Alchemy department is planning on running a summer program for young, aspiring alchemists like yourself. I was wondering if you'd like to be involved in the planning, perhaps teach some of the less-experienced alchemists, and, of course, partake in the more advanced courses yourself. It would all be free of charge, of course."

The Fuhrer and his wife couldn't miss the boy's obvious disappointment, but they upheld their masks of enthusiasm and smiled as if nothing was wrong.

And just like that, the room seemed cold. An icy cloud started from Selim's core and slowly spread through his limbs to his fingertips. The sweat on his forehead felt like ice water, and it felt gravity was increasing on his insides. The trembling, however, did not change at all.

He had to take a moment to remember how to respond, the ability to speak seemed lost on him and, even once he found it, he wouldn't know what to say. Neither his rational thinking or irrational thinking had prepared him for _this_.

"Selim?" His mother gently nudged him, causing him to shake his head and find his voice.

"I, uh...well, I'd—I'd love to, sir."

Roy forced himself to smile. "That's great news! We'll let you know more about it as it develops, and of course any input or suggestions you might have will be taken into serious consideration."

"What an opportunity!" Mrs. bradley beamed. "This is wonderful, isn't it Selim?"

"Yeah, of course." He half-lied. It was a great opportunity, one he doubted any other amatuer alchemist would be offered. But he couldn't convince the overwhelming disappointed feeling in his stomach that it was anything less than crushing. "Thank you very much for the offer." He added out of politeness.

The rest of the night was all sort of a haze to Selim. After the dinner had ended, they were politely and kindly bid farewell, and as Selim drug himself into the backseat of the car, he found himself thanking the night sky for hiding his heartache under the cover of darkness.

* * *

"Should I feel this sorry?" Roy asked his wife as he settled into the chair in the front room, pouring himself a glass of scotch that was always in the foyer.

"We did break his heart." She said sadly while Roy took a slow swig of his drink.

"How bout that." He chuckled humorlessly, staring into the brown liquid swirling inside his glass. "I never thought I'd feel bad about breaking the heart of a monster."

"When that monster is just a boy," His wife replied. "it's pretty hard not to."

* * *

Mrs. Bradley discreetly watched her son with concern. Of course she wasn't oblivious to his sadness, she _was_ his mother. The sudden shift from jittery with life to sullen and defeated made her heart want to jump out and hold him, never to let go. But she had to refrain. Selim was growing up. He wasn't the same little boy that would cry out for his mother at every displeasure, sobbing into her embrace until he was cried out and ready to move on. No. He was a young man now, one who preferred to deal with his sorrows quietly and on his own. Of course she was proud that he was growing independence. He'd be such a strong man some day. But it still pained her to see him so upset. Wasn't there _something_ she could do?

As they neared the house, Mrs. Bradley knew that her time to address her son was running out, and while she respected his need for space, she also couldn't bear to see him like this. He would know that _someone_ knows how he felt, and that someone was also there for him if he needed them.

"Selim?" She said gently, and his glistening eyes glanced over at her.

"Sorry, mom, I'm just tired." He lied.

"Selim, it's okay to be upset." She said tenderly. "I know you were expecting things to go a little differently tonight. I was too. But sweetie…" She reached out and softly stroked a tendril of his black hair. "There are people who care about you and will be there for you when you're upset. And then after the sadness passes, things are going to work out. You're a brilliant young man. No matter who your next teacher is, they'll be phenomenal and so will you. I promise."

Selim was silent while his mother's words sank in, except for the few weak, nearly inaudible sniffles that were released without his consent. Then he leaned into his mother's touch and rested his head on her shoulder, feeling the sadness that had wrapped itself around him slowly loosen its grip.

Mrs. Bradley couldn't help but smile. She wrapped her arm around him and held him close, forever grateful that the strong young man beside her was still her little son.

When they got inside, Selim gave his mother and long and tight hug goodnight before heading to his room and closing his door behind him. The dim glow of his bedside lamp was the only source of light in the otherwise dark room, and a soft rainfall could be heard on the roof. He stared down his backpack where he knew he had unfinished homework waiting for him and speculated whether or not he should do it. He knew he'd regret not doing it tomorrow, but a dull sadness and lackadaisicalness inside of him refused to care. He had plenty of time before he had to go sleep, but Selim could think of nothing he would rather do. He apathetically grabbed the first pair of soft pants he located in his closet and replaced them with his slacks. He slowly unbuttoned his white shirt as he walked towards his bed, dropping it onto the floor and leaving only the white undershirt on. He then climbed under his covers, ignored any mess he had just left on the floor, and turned off his lamp.

Despite all the reassurance from his mother and from his rationality, Selim still felt the sting of tears forming in his eyes and a persistent lump form in his throat.

And he had no spirit left to fight it.

He laid on his side, pulled his knees up to his chest, and cried.

He sobbed softly into his folded arms for a long time, feeling the heartache leave his body bit by bit with every quivering breath. When the tears had finally subsided and his breathing came easier, Selim felt completely empty. There was no sorrow, and there was no joy. He was just a shell, a container that had been emptied of all it's contents. He wiped the tear streaks from his cheeks with his hands and opened his eyes.

He wasn't in his room.

There was no bed beneath him, no window for moonlight to sneak through. He was laying on a cold floor in a very large, very empty space. The little bit of light the space possessed was shining in the very center of room, right where he was laying, and seemed to be coming from above. Selim looked up to see if he could identify its source, but there wasn't ceiling or sky, just light amidst a heavy darkness. He sat up and studied his surroundings once more.

It was neither hot nor cold, but the atmosphere was still heavy and chilling. In the farthest reaches of the shadows, a dim shimmer of red caught Selim's eye and was gone just as quickly. His heart caught in his chest at the sight. Was it a ghost? A demon? He was afraid to look and afraid to look away, but he forced himself to anyway, and did not dare to look too deeply into the shadows anymore. He stood to his feet, shaking slightly, and stared only at the edges of the darkness. His peripherals may have caught a few more of the red ghosts, but Selim told himself he was only seeing them because he was scared of them. They weren't really there. Still, he refused to let his gaze fall any closer to himself, keeping guard in case he needed to escape. How would he escape though? Into the darkness? The light only reached so far. In fact, it didn't reach very far at all. If he retreated into the shadows then the ghosts had him. Maybe he could just keep running. Keep running and running until he finally found the edge of this horrible place, and then he would follow the edge until he found an exit. No matter how long it took. The ghosts wouldn't get him.

He considered his escape, its failures and successes, and watched the edge of the darkness, ebbing and flowing gently like a calm black sea. Or how he imagined the sea, anyway. He had never seen the sea in person, but it must look like these shadows…

But the shadows, he then realized, shouldn't be _moving._

Selim flinched as he focused his vision onto the rippling edge, his hands shaking and his legs threatening to buckle dare he move. He felt like crying again. Not from sadness or disappointment that now seemed so futile, but in outright fear.

And then the waving motion slowly ceased, but the crests of each wave still danced ominously. Selim managed to move, managed to look around him, but the circle of light that surrounded him was completely possessed by the dancing shadows. Now, he was _definitely_ trapped.

The crests got longer, thinner, and slowly slid through the circle. They looked like… they couldn't be… _hands?_ Like tiny hands at the end of slithering black snakes that slowly crawled along the floor that surrounded Selim's feet. He watched them—his chest heaving—play threateningly around him, waiting for one to decide the game was over and wrap its black grip around his body. But then, something at the top of his vision called his attention. Another shadow, this one standing. But shadows couldn't do that. Was it a shadow? Whatever it was, it was black and it was growing, standing tall at the very edge of the light. It was like a giant thorn that swayed threateningly, and Selim watched it with wide eyes, his throat too tight to scream.

Once the shadow was towering over Selim, it stilled, and it loomed in the dim light. He wasn't sure if the hands were still slithering along the floor, but he couldn't draw his eyes away from the new shadowy monster to check. How was it standing like that? And why? Why was it—

Selim's mind blanked. There was nothing but a frozen white fear in his veins, the manic urge to run accompanied by the inability to move.

The shadow then, as Selim thought it couldn't be any more frightening, revealed itself to have eyes, long and menacing, that slowly opened and focused themselves on Selim. Then there were smiles, toothy, sinister and abhorrently evil, and they laughed at him.

He froze. His mind, his breath, his blood, all frozen solid, as they shadow smiled murderously at him.

But just as it lunged forward, a series of knocking sounds echoed through the space and the shadow recoiled in shock. The unexpected impediment kicked Selim's mind back into action, and he glanced frantically around him, looking for the source of the noise. Whatever it was, it was an enemy of the shadows, and that meant a savior to him. The limbs on the floor had seceded and snaked through the darkness in search of the knocking sound, and when Selim looked back up, the giant shadow was shrinking back into the floor to follow the hands. The red ghosts fussed and flew sporadically at the intrusion, and the knocking sounded again, this time more furiously. This was it! It was coming to save him!

And then his feet were pulled out from underneath him, two shadowy limbs wrapped around his feet, and everything seemed to slow down, his heartrate, his breathing, the motion of the ghosts and shadows, as Selim's wide eyes closed and his muscles tensed, waiting for the inevitable crash onto the cold, hard floor.

But it didn't come. Selim opened his eyes and found himself covered in blankets, a dull white light sneaking through his curtains and a heavy rain falling steadily on the roof overhead. He was in his bed, in his room, in his house, safe and sound. Breathing a sigh of relief, he listened to the soothing sound of the rain to calm his nerves. He was coated in sweat, his breathing was frantic, and his heart was racing faster than if he had just run ten miles. He must've fallen asleep at some point while he was crying, the shadows and ghosts nothing but a nightmare. An extremely vivid, mysterious, and terrifying nightmare. He'd never had one like it before in all his life, and even as reality sunk in, his body was still reacting as if everything had been real.

_Knock knock knock knock._

Selim jumped, and pulled the covers closer. It was like the knocking in his dream. But somehow it was closer, more real. Wait… it _was_ real. As the knocking sounded again, he was able to discern it from the sound that echoed in his dream. Someone was knocking at the door!

Still unrecovered from his fright, Selim was in no state to venture out into the house and open the door to an unknown guest, especially in the middle of the night. He turned on his lamp, unable to stand being in the darkness any longer, and listened closely for any further developments.

There were footsteps on the bottom floor, accompanied by a mumbling of "Who in the world could that be in the middle of the night?" (it sounded like their butler, Winston.) and even more knocking. Selim was curious and, even though he was still frightened, he had to know what was going on. He bravely crawled out of his bed and opened his door just a crack so he could peek out over the foyer and at the front door.

Sure enough, the old butler, adorned in night clothes, was crossing the main floor to open the door for the unexpected visitor. Selim watched intensely for the opening of the door, for the identity of the caller to be revealed, absolutely no idea who it could be.

Winston unlocked the deadbolt and the door handle before wrapping his hand around the knob and opening it. The sound of rain grew louder as the door finally opened, the visitor was hardly visible through the darkness and sheets of falling rain.

Selim squinted to get a closer look. The silhouette looked male, tall and broad-shouldered, adorned in a long trench coat and carrying a suitcase. As his eyes focused, he noticed the long, light colored hair pulled into a ponytail, the gleam of the golden eyes… Selim's eyes widened. It couldn't— could it be? After everything that happened, could it really be him?

Selim watched hopefully as Winston escorted the visitor inside, and the foyer's lamplight revealed the man to be exactly as Selim had thought.

_The Fullmetal Alchemist._

* * *

"So, you decided to come after all." Roy Mustang said bitterly. He was sitting straight-backed in his chair, an arrogant and affronted look on his face as he stared down the man before him.

Edward rolled his eyes and huffed. He had prepared himself for the inevitable chewing out, but that didn't mean he _wanted_ one.

"What do you want from me?" He replied flatly. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"How commendable." Roy replied sardonically.

"Look, I shouldn't have to apologize to _you_ for not showing up." Edward said crossly. "Last I checked, it was _me_ that's doing _you_ the favor here, not the other way around!"

"And last _I_ checked." Roy replied just as harshly. " _You_ were selected on the grounds that we could _trust_ you."

"Well if you don't think I can _handle it_ , I'll be _glad_ to go back home!" Ed threatened.

"Bailing _twice._ " Roy said as he tilted his head. " _Truly_ commendable."

Ed took a battle-ready step forward when Hawkeye placed a hand on his shoulder from behind and stopped him in his tracks.

"Edward." She said, and he looked over his shoulder into her firm yet gentle eyes. "Please stay."

He gulped and studied her closely. He didn't know how the hell anyone could read the Lieutenant, but she had never let him down before. He had a deep respect for her that he'd never had for her idiot husband, and if she wanted him to follow through, then he supposed he felt a deep conviction that he should.

He sighed and plopped down into one of the chairs behind him, resting his head on his hand so that he wasn't looking at Mustang.

"Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"Teach him what you know," Mustang said civilly. "and watch him carefully. Watch him during and outside of lessons. I believe Mrs. Bradley has offered to let you stay at the house?"

Edward nodded.

"Good. Take her up on it. If the homunculus Pride is still alive, he's very weak. Should he attack you, your hand-to-hand combat skills should be enough to hold him off until help arrives. Lieutenant Fuery has developed this device that's come in handy on more than a few undercover assignments." He dropped a small pad with a red button on it onto his desk. "Keep it on you at all times. If something should happen, press that button and we'll be notified. I don't believe we have to go over what signs to look for to distinguish Homunculi-like behavior." He said surely.

"What'll happen to him if he _does_ start showing signs?" Edward asked resentfully.

Mustang did not respond.

"You're not going to kill him, are you?" Ed asked, a fire burning behind his golden eyes.

Again, Mustang hesitated. "It completely depends on how dangerous he proves himself to be. We will avoid it all costs, but if the threat is too severe…"

Ed swallowed. "I see." He stood to his feet. "Then we'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen." He said with a smirk.

Roy smirked in return. "I'll see to it that you have to number to my direct line before you go. If you need anything, call me there."

"Yeah, yeah. Are we done here?"

Roy nodded. "Lieutenant?"

Riza nodded and offered to escort the former alchemist out of the building.

"Edward." She began when they were a good distance down the hall. "I know that the Fuhrer is too stubborn to admit it, but he's glad you're here."

Her comment surprised Ed ever so slightly, and he looked beside him to see her smiling gently at him.

"And so am I." She added.

A tinge of warmth spread through him at her words. "Well I sure hope that bastard knows what he's doing." Ed said.

"We do." She said, her smile _almost_ resembling a smirk, and Ed grinned at her hidden meaning.

They walked the rest of the way in polite conversation and when they reached the outside exit, Riza handed him a folded piece of paper with the number to the direct line, telling him to memorize and destroy it. Edward agreed and bid the Lieutenant farewell. She did the same and retreated again into the building.

Edward sighed and turned to the street to hail a taxi, unsure what to expect with his upcoming mission, but knowing he was in trustworthy hands.

"Here goes nothing."

* * *

"Hel- _lo_!" Natalie said, snapping a finger in front of her friend's face. "Earth to Selim!"

The boy immediately noticed her hand before focusing his eyes on his friend.

"Huh? What?" He said, confused.

Henry laughed. "I swear, sometimes this kid lives in a whole different world!"

Selim blushed and smiled apologetically. "Sorry guys. Didn't get much sleep."

"Well tell us about last night!" Natalie smiled, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"Wait! Not yet!" Henry protested, shoving his hands frantically inside his lunch box and resurfacing with a container of noodles and chopsticks. "Okay! Go!" He stared at Selim eagerly, not breaking eye contact as he shovelled the noodles into his mouth.

Selim blinked. "Um. Alright. Well… Last night was a bit of a rollercoaster to be honest."

Natalie gasped, both boys looking at her in confusion, and then blushed. "I'm sorry! This is already so exciting!" She scooted her chair closer to the table before resting her head and both of her hands and giving Selim her undivided attention.

Selim recounted somewhat awkwardly what he had expected from the dinner, bits of the conversation he carried with the First Family, the unexpected bit of news and then the surprise arrival of The Fullmetal Alchemist, at which they had both squealed like little children. He then told them about how they welcomed him in, offered him food and a place to stay while he was in Central and that Edward had been asked to be Selim's new alchemy teacher, which Selim had accepted with enthusiasm.

"And, that's about it, I guess." He ended, hiding a proud smile behind an embarrassed smirk.

"He's at your _house?"_ Natalie gaped.

"Yeah. I mean, I think. He might've gone out or someth—"

" _Selim that's so cool!_ " Henry nearly leapt out of his seat to pull Selim into a tight, brotherly hug. " _I'm so happy for you, man! You deserve this!_ "

Selim returned the hug hesitantly and awkwardly patted the Xingese boy's back. "Thanks, Henry." And despite his embarrassment, the thanks was genuine.

"You _have_ to introduce us!" Natalie said, emphatically slamming her palms onto the table. "You _have to!_ "

Selim laughed. "Okay I will! After we're all settled in, I'll have you guys come over after school sometime!"

Henry released his friend, a smile still plastered on his face.

"What's the big news, Bradley?" A nasally voice sounded from behind Selim, and he tensed as he recognized its source. Henry and Natalie were glaring up at their new visitor but Selim just looked at his tray hoping he would go away. "Did you finally manage to hit puberty or something?"

The red-headed boy, not much bigger than Selim (he was actually rather lanky) was smirking down at him with a snide gleam in his eye.

"What do you want, Matt?" Natalie asked scoldingly, all three of them refusing to acknowledge the boy's immature jabs. Henry and Natalie always managed to defend Selim in situations like this, for which he was eternally grateful. Selim always froze up when confronted by the bully, more uncomfortable than angry.

"Well, I couldn't help but overhear that Edward Elric is your new teacher. Congratulations." They eyed him suspiciously, waiting for the punchline to his obviously false praise. "Daddy's connections go a long way, don't they?"

Selim bit the inside of his cheek and refused to look up from his tray. He guessed he shouldn't have been shocked that the boy would go that far right off the bat, but that still didn't stop it from striking a sensitive chord deep down.

"Big talk from a kid who's never achieved a single thing in his life." Natalie spat back, arms crossed and a snarky eyebrow raised.

"Why don't you mind your own business, Blondie." He snarled.

"Sure thing." She replied, her eyes challenging him as she maintained her cool composure. "Once _you_ do the same."

Matt Hargis finally rolled his eyes and snorted. "Whatever. I'll see you idiots _later_." Then he eyed his initial target venomously. "Especially you, Bradley. Maybe next time I see you, _you'll_ have lost an arm and leg too."

Selim felt a spark of something that resembled anger deep down, but he smothered it in non-confrontational sentiment. He wouldn't feul the boy's fire. If he showed no reaction then maybe he'd leave him alone.

Then he trudged off, his skinny legs stomping into the ground as he marched towards his own table.

Selim released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Don't listen to that jerk, Selim." Natalie said reassuringly.

"Yeah, he doesn't know what he's talking about." Henry added, placing a hand on Selim's shoulder. "Like I said, you deserve this."

Selim nodded and thanked his friends, and when he remembered what he was going home to, his mood lifted again. The chord still rang somewhere deep down, but it was going to have to work a lot harder if it was going to keep Selim down for very long.

After lunch ended, classes continued as usual, although as they neared the end of the day, Selim became more and more anxious to get home. As he waved goodbye to his friends before chemistry, his heart was soaring. He was excited for school to let out, and also excited to see Prima, although he didn't have the focus to try and figure out why.

But after he had seated himself and she walked in, he thought maybe he should reconsider. His heart fluttered and his stomach tightened as she smiled at him and asked if the seat next to him was open. Which it was. It had been all year (and he found himself thanking no one in particular that it was) as she settled in beside him.

"How's your day been?" She asked him with a smile.

"Pretty great, actually." He smiled in return. He couldn't have lied about that even if he wanted to.

"I'm glad! Any particular reason or just having a good day?"

Selim's smile widened. "Um…"

"There's a reason!" Prima concluded happily. "What is it?"

"It's." He started, still smiling. "It's stupid…"

"Yeah right." Prima nudged him playfully. "C'mon! What is it?"

Selim looked bashfully at his desk for a moment. He didn't want to brag about it to everyone, especially to her. What if he came across as arrogant? What if she thought he was just rubbing it everyone's face?

He let his gaze slip towards her again, meeting her crimson and expecting eyes. He wondered if she would let him get away without answering, but something told him that she wouldn't. And, surprisingly, he hoped he was right. The longer he looked at her (which had probably only been seconds, though they felt longer to him) the less he worried about seeming arrogant and the more he worried about disappointing her.

He looked back down at his desk, feeling the slightest tinge of heat in cheeks.

"I got a new alchemy teacher."

"That's not stupid." She remarked. "That's awesome! What's their name? Maybe I've heard of them!"

"Um, well, probably…"

"Really?" She said excitedly. "Ooh, let me see if I can guess!"

"Uh" he stared quizzically for a moment, surprised that she was so interested. "Okay."

"Well, let's see…" She thought out loud. "There's the Flame Alchemist." She searched his expression to see if she had gotten it right.

He shook his head.

"Okay, there's the Aurora Alchemist. He's pretty famous?"

Selim shook his head again.

"The Blue Bane Alchemist?"

"Nope."

"Hmm…" She brought her hand to her chin. "Well the only other alchemist I know of is the Fullmetal Alchemist, but he's retired."

Selim stayed silent, but he couldn't stop the huge, giddy smile that spread across his face.

Her eyes widened in understanding.

"No. Way." She said behind her hands before lowering them to reveal a wide, ecstatic smile. "That's _incredible_ , Selim! You really _are_ a genius if you're studying under the greatest alchemist of our time!"

"Thanks." Selim blushed, flattered at her enthusiasm. "I think I just lucked out, though. I mean, my mom knows the Fuhrer so he called in a favor." The harsh and taunting words from lunch time echoed through his thoughts. "It's mostly just connections. "

"I don't think so." She said. "If the Flame Alchemist thinks that Edward Elric should be your teacher then it's obviously for reasons other than connections." Her voice was certain, Selim realized. She wasn't just saying that to make him feel better. She actually believed it. "I think he sees a promising alchemist in you, Selim."

She might not have known much about alchemy, but she definitely knew exactly what to say to make Selim feel unstoppable.

"Thanks." He said, an appreciative and genuine smile spreading across his face.

Their teacher called the class's attention to the front of the room and within moments he had started on day's lecture. Selim and Prima took notes and, though he wasn't sure about Prima, Selim was hardly paying any attention to the lesson. He wrote down what was written on the board, he half-listened for any noteworthy points, but his mind lingered on Prima. Occasionally they would exchange quick glances or smiles, but just her presence was distracting.

How had she only known Selim for one day yet still known _exactly_ what he needed to hear? Was she psychic? Was he just that easy to read?

He didn't know. But, with a poorly hidden and a quick glance at the studious girl beside him, Selim decided that if he was sure of anything, it was that she was an absolute mystery.

* * *

When Selim got home, he wasted no time in finding his teacher. He ran downstairs to the full basement where his alchemy lab had been since he was old enough to have one, but Edward wasn't there. Selim quickly searched through the main floor, hoping to find the alchemist there, but he was nowhere to be seen. Against Selim's will, a wave of panic started rising up from his core as he frantically ran up the stairs to the second floor to continue searching. What if he backed out? What if just that one impression of Selim was enough for him to realize this was going to be a waste of time? What if—

"Looking for Edward, dear?" Selim's mother's voice asked from the foyer, her unexpected presence startling the young boy. He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, attempting to suppress the panic is his voice.

"Yeah."

"He stepped out earlier today." She said with a smile. "He had to visit some people down at Central Command and get a few more things for lessons. He should be back soon."

Selim let out a breath and instantly felt his his tense stomach start to relax.

"Why don't you head up to your room and try to get a bit of schoolwork done before he gets back?"

Selim nodded. "Okay!"

He bolted up the stairs and to his room, dropped of the backpack he completely forgot he was still carrying, and then decided to forego the homework. It was the weekend, he would have a chance to do it tomorrow and Sunday. He changed into a long sleeve tee and casual slacks before running back down to the basement.

The space wasn't particularly large, but it certainly wasn't small. It used to be a whole separate living area, a decently-sized common room with a few smaller, adjacent rooms originally intended to be bedrooms or office areas. However, Selim's alchemy lab, which had started as one of the larger bedrooms, had slowly taken over the entire downstairs area. One of the bedrooms served as a supply closet, and another as a library for the books he had collected over the years. The same room also served as a second workdesk for alchemy research instead of homework, and of course, the common area was where all the actual experimentation and practice took place.

There was an assortment of tables and workbenches, similar to what one would see in a workshop, but the dark hardwood floors gave it a more homey feel. Unlike Selim's own room, however, he wasn't as particular about keeping it tidy. Since he preferred to pick up on alchemy right where he left off, there were half-finished projects and open textbooks with notes sticking out of them strewn all over the tables and floors, and he'd learned long ago not to bother trying to clean the chalk off of anything. Chalk dust would always end up on everything no matter what he did.

Selim noted the new addition to the lab, courtesy of Edward Elric, in the corner to his left. The trunk, large enough to require two men to carry it, sat exactly where the butlers had left it. It looked a little worn for wear, and Selim assumed that the former alchemist had taken it on a lot of his travels to the west. Just looking at it stirred a longing inside Selim, a longing to know everything that it had seen, contained and withstood. He wondered what kind of relationship would ensue from their time together. The student-teacher dynamic would obviously be attained, but what about something more?

He remembered reading a book that Edward had published about his own upbringing with alchemy. Though he and his brother were self-taught at a young age, they had also studied under an alchemist named Izumi Curtis. He described her as being like a second mother to them. A strong-willed, brutally-punishing, tough-as-nails kind of mother, but a mother nonetheless.

Selim felt something stir around the hollowest part of him. He wondered, guiltily, if he was expecting too much from the former alchemist. He certainly didn't _want_ to see Edward as a potential father-figure. He was already the subject of enough hero-worship, and Selim was no exception to that sort of treatment. But he couldn't control his feelings anymore than he could control the weather. Perhaps it was why he was so heartbroken at the Fuhrer's dinner. Perhaps it was why his heart was so set on him from the beginning. Selim wanted that kind of paternal figure in his life. He wanted what Mrs. Curtis was to the Elrics, but he wanted it for himself.

Not that his mother wasn't enough. Selim loved his mother, and she had done an incredible job in making sure that Selim never felt like he was missing out by only having one parent. But he could tell by the way that she would speak about him, by the things they learned in government classes, that his father was an incredible man. Each year, a memorial service was held in the man's honor for his brave sacrifice on the Promised Day and his unconditional love for his country. Inspirational words were spoken and tears were shed (especially on his mother's behalf) at every service, and Selim would always regret not being able to know the man.

Perhaps he wasn't searching for just a father figure in the Fullmetal Alchemist, but a gateway to his own father as well. Edward worked under and fought alongside him, perhaps he had his own stories and memories to share, little bits of information Selim could add to the man he had heard so much about. What would he think of Selim? Would he be proud? Would he even want Selim to join the military? Or would he rather him become a doctor or a lawyer?

Selim sighed. He'd never know.

"Looks like someone's ready to get started."

Selim jolted to his feet and turned, his face burning red.

Edward Elric was leaning against the wall beside the staircase and watching the boy with a smirk.

"I-I wasn't going through it, I swear!" Selim stammered, waving his hands frantically in front of him. "I was just lost in thought, I-I guess, and must've wandered over and—!"

Edward laughed. "Relax, kid! You're not in trouble!"

Selim gulped. He was making an _awful_ impression.

"You wanna see what's inside?" Ed asked, nodding his head towards the trunk.

"Uh, well…" Selim was unsure how to answer. He was unsure how to do a lot, actually. "If you think it's alright…"

"Why do you think I brought it? This stuff is for your lessons, after all."

Selim blinked. "Really?"

"Of course." He joined Selim and knelt down in front of the trunk. It wasn't locked, just closed, and he undid the clasps swiftly before opening the lid with a creak. "Let's see… I've got some books with me. Some of the stuff I learned from as kid, some given to me by teacher, and some of my own."

"The books you've written?" Selim asked.

"Uh huh!" Ed confirmed.

"Which ones?" Selim implored, nervously kneeling beside his teacher, his heart beating restlessly inside his chest.

"Uh, let's see…" Ed read the titles on the bindings of the books. " _The Self-Teacher's Guide to Alchemy, Xerxes and the Origins of Alchemy, The Alchemist's Code Revisited…_ I think that's it for mine."

"Oh." Selim blushed.

"What?" Ed asked, noting his reaction.

"Well… it's just that…" Selim gave a small, embarrassed smile. "I've already read them."

Edward blinked quizzically. "Is that so?"

Selim nodded bashfully.

Edward smiled. "Well, I guess we can skip over those then. I had no idea you were such a fan!"

At that, Selim blushed even harder, but luckily Edward had returned his attention to contents of the trunk before he could notice.

"What about this one?" Edward asked. " _Philosophia Shambhala_ "

"It's one your own teacher used, right?"

"You've read this one, too?"

Selim shook his head. "No, I haven't been able to find a copy."

"Not surprising." Ed replied. "Teacher was the only alchemist I ever met with a copy, but she taught from it like it was a holy text! I wouldn't be surprised if she wrote it herself." He joked.

"What's it about?" Selim asked eagerly.

"Well, it's where she got her famous mantra 'To train the mind, one must first train the body!'. And then she'd beat our brains out!" He laughed.

"Do you think that's true?" Selim asked.

Edward shrugged. "Well, it worked pretty well for me and Al. I don't know how well it'd work for other people, but it definitely helped us a lot."

"I wanna try it!" Selim said enthusiastically, causing Ed to give him a curious look. "Well, I mean…" he stuttered, his previous confidence slowly fading. "if that's alright with you, of course. You _are_ the teacher…"

Edward hesitated for a moment and Selim was desperate to know what he was thinking. Then he shrugged. "If you want to, then sure, we can try it. But we should probably prioritize your alchemical training over your physical regimen."

Selim nodded in affirmation, thrilled that he was going to be learning even more than he had originally anticipated.

"Alright. I guess that's about all we have to cover." The former alchemist gave a big grin to his student. "Ready to get started?"

Selim could not agree fast enough.

* * *

Hours later, Edward was heading to his room after being wished a very thankful goodnight by his new student. He felt as if he had been tying all of his anxiousness into a tight ball with finely stretched rubber bands, and the closer he got his room, the tighter the bands felt. They wouldn't hold much longer, and the last few steps to his door threatened to break them all together. But he managed to twist the brass knob and step inside before anything got loose. But once the door was securely shut behind him, he nearly collapsed, his back falling against the door that now acted as his support.

And just like that, the bands snapped.

An overwhelming wave of emotion gushed from his chest and crashed through his whole body, making it difficult for him to even breathe.

He couldn't believe he had held it together for that long, and done a convincing job of it nonetheless. It wasn't that the kid was _acting_ like a monster. No. He acted no different than any other kid his age would. But Edward couldn't shake the feeling that he was aiding an enemy, sharpening a lethal knife. He was expected to do this every day? He wasn't sure he would be able to stand this sort of emotional torment on a day to day basis. Although he had managed survive it before.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning deeper into the door. Whatever he had gotten himself into, he thought to himself, it sure as hell wasn't going to be easy.


End file.
